


has to be a joke

by Zekkass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Bondage, Character Study, Fingering, Groping, Handcuffed Together, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, Other, Pre-Canon, Thighs, Vaginal Fingering, discussion of consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 12:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: An accident in bootcamp leaves Sentinel and Optimus handcuffed together. Sentinel's not taking it well - up until he gets a good look at what Optimus looks like in the washracks.





	has to be a joke

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a self-imposed challenge, with the prompt "handcuffs". I actually didn't intend for it to get smutty, but it turned into an interesting exercise in writing top!Sentinel, so that was fun! :D

"This has to be a joke," Sentinel says for the fourth time, staring at his wrist. If it is a joke, it's in poor taste - proof of that is how Elita-One had laughed and laughed when she'd realized what had happened to them.

"Kup said the engineers would have it off of us by tomorrow," Optimus says, and how, how is he not freaking out? They're chained together! Like common criminals! "At least it's not a pair of stasis cuffs."

"That's not helping," Sentinel growls, taking the chain and yanking on it, trying again to pull it off - but all he succeeds in doing is yanking at his wrist. Whatever alloys they've made this chain out of, they're stupidly strong. "Slaggit. We're going to have to _recharge_ like this."

And refuel, and use the washracks, and somehow they're going to have to do all of that without getting tangled up. It's not a long chain, just barely long enough to let them stand apart. The cuff on his wrist isn't much better, a stout and thick band that's just too tight and it digs into sensitive wires whenever Optimus tugs on the chain.

Somehow Optimus isn't as outraged as he is. Somehow he's been amused by the entire thing, as if it's actually funny, which it isn't.

Sentinel peers at him, optics narrowed. Right. Time for an accusation, see what shakes loose.

"Are you _enjoying_ this?"

Optimus blinks at him, then breaks into a short laugh. "Not really!"

"Because if you are enjoying this, something is really - what?"

"I don't like being chained up either," Optimus says. "You gesture with your hands when you speak, and it's beginning to hurt."

Sentinel looks from Optimus to his hands and back, then scowls. "You should have said so!"

"I just did."

"You should have said so sooner!"

Why is this _happening_ to him? Optimus is the last person he would have wanted to be chained to, _including_ Kup. Optimus is rude, too curious about everything, too _smart_ and he's always confident that things will work out. Which is a load of slag! Things don't just magically work out, you have to work _hard_ to get where you want to be, and the way Optimus had just turned up at boot-camp like he was forged for it, just - just - it just ground his gears. A lot.

The chain running from his wrist to Optimus' just makes it worse. It's so obvious that his frame wasn't built for combat, and that Optimus - well, he wasn't either, but he's got the build of a convoy, a frametype that's so good that the _Magnus_ is one.

Show him the famous plows in history - there are none. He's looked.

He's going to be the first, slaggit, and he's going to work his way there, and slag someone like Optimus, who just gets good things thrust upon him because he looks cute.

Sentinel steals a look in Optimus' direction, scowling. It's unfair, the way he's got cute audials, the way his helm has a cap built into it, and his lips - 

Bad idea! Bad idea! He's going to be sharing a washracks with him soon!

//

Optimus has never seen Sentinel this stiff and awkward before. Who knew one chain would upset him this much?

It's not a big deal, after all - he's resolved to think of it as a training exercise. There have even been stories of Autobots escaping from Decepticon prisons while chained together, forced to fight, run, and climb while pressed together. There even was a story - though it was down in the apocryphal section of the text - of a pair of prisoners who escaped while _welded_ together.

So - this is nothing. Kup's given them the night off, and use of a private barracks so they don't bother the other cadets, and as long as Sentinel can keep from being so awkward, it won't be a problem.

Except that when they walk into the washracks, there's a problem: it’s a small stall.

“We’re going to have to take turns,” Optimus says.

“Great,” Sentinel says, and he goes in first, jerking at the chain as he twists the controls. He’s like that - always leaping ahead of others in a line, taking what he wants.

Optimus sighs softly and leans against the wall, crossing his arms and rubbing around the band as he waits. If past Autobots could escape Decepticons while chained together, he can put up with a slightly obnoxious partner as they share the washracks.

...Except that those past Autobots were a team in the truest sense, where they’d work together effortlessly, without arguing - and Optimus isn’t sure Sentinel even knows what teamwork is, even with Kup drilling the concept into them every other cycle.

“Okay, done,” Sentinel says, stepping out. He’s shiny, and - 

“Did you really need a waxing?”

“Of course!”

“We’re just going to the barracks to recharge until tomorrow! Why did you need a waxing?”

Sentinel stares at him, then grabs his shoulder and turns him, pointing to the mirror.

 _”Look_ at me. I _deserve_ a waxing.”

“I - you look nice, but that’s not the point - “

“I look _nice?!_ I look incredible! Optimus, _look_ at me!”

“What am I supposed to see?” Optimus asks, not - not to be rude, but really, why is this a big deal?

Sentinel stares at him, begins to say something before his vocalizer resets with a click, then he’s suddenly moving closer, taking Optimus’ shoulders in his hands.

“What - mmph!”

Sentinel kisses him, just pushing his lips to his, and Optimus stares at him, mouth opening a little out of shock. Sentinel must take it as an invitation, because his glossae pushes into Optimus’ mouth. It’s warm and it stings as energy pops between their glossae, but oh, oh it feels good as Sentinel keeps kissing him, glossae twining into his own, and when they part Optimus is charged.

Sentinel stares at him, then shoves him into the washracks and stands with his back to him, arms crossed.

“...Sentinel?”

“Clean up! I’m not going to bother with some gritty scratched-paint cadet.”

“What - what _was_ that?”

No answer. If not for the chain - Optimus knows Sentinel would be gone, and the kiss wouldn’t be brought up again.

Except that he’s never kissed him before, and this has never, would this even have happened if they _weren’t_ chained together?

He works the controls of the washracks on autopilot, staring in Sentinel’s direction.

“... Wait,” he says. “You want to do more?”

“Obviously!”

“I - why?”

At this, Sentinel turns around to stare at him...and he stops, exasperation changing to - something else. And he moves, kissing Optimus again.

“Sen - “ The charge keeps tripping up his vocalizer, cutting him off mid-word, and Sentinel’s touching his audials, and they’re both wet now, and Optimus’ panels snap open before he can stop himself. The charge has to go _somewhere,_ of course, and Sentinel steps closer, a hand cupped around the back of his helm as his other rubs at Optimus’ audials, and he’s kissing him hard, and - 

“You’re going to be stupid about this,” Sentinel says - Optimus needs to learn how he can talk with charge flickering through his circuits - “But it doesn’t mean anything. Just some mutual pleasure. Okay?”

But if it doesn’t mean anything, then _why are they doing it?_

Optimus struggles, then gets his hands on Sentinel’s chest and shoves him back, vents working hard, glossae hurting at the abrupt cut-off. But.

“I - I don’t want to do it if it doesn’t mean anything. I’m not a pleasure bot, Sentinel!”

“Neither am I!”

“Then why - “

“Because you’re attractive and we’re alone and this is a great opportunity to feel good together! It doesn’t mean anything because it’d be stupid to commit to anything when we don’t even know if we’re going to the Academy yet, or getting shuttled off to do scut-work! So _come on_ I’ve got a charge and I _know_ you have one too!”

But that’s - that’s - 

“Interfacing is supposed to be special, Sentinel!”

“Says who! You do it because it feels good! It only gets special if you do something like share sparks and we’re not doing that.”

“Sentinel - “

“Are we interfacing or not?”

“I don’t - “ A click as he has to focus past the charge, and make his vocalizer work. “I don’t want to interface unless it means something. So no. We’re not.”

Sentinel stares at him, genuinely shocked - before he asks a fifth time - “This is a joke, right?”

“It isn’t,” Optimus says firmly, and he gets up, closing his panels deliberately. “I’m not - I don’t interface casually.”

He doesn’t even know if he wants Sentinel to offer to be serious. He doesn’t know what he’d say, with the charge still floating unspent in his systems, confusing his programming. But he’s not, he’s not going to share that charge with someone who will forget him in the morning and act like it didn’t happen.

“I hate this,” Sentinel hisses, but - give him credit - he turns away. “Are we sure they can’t use some boltcutters to get us apart?”

Optimus says nothing, scrubbing harder, faster - his audials tingle. His charge won’t dissipate immediately.

“You’re supposed to say yes, great, let’s have some fun, and then I can show off a little,” Sentinel mutters.

“...Was,” maybe he shouldn’t ask, “that why Elita-One was screaming the other night?”

“I’m good,” Sentinel says, turning to give him a rakish grin. “You should see what I can do to a spike. Are you sure - ?”

Optimus stares at him, and oh, oh no.

“We really should, uh - “ His vocalizer’s cutting again.

“What’s the big deal?” Sentinel asks.

“...I want it to mean something,” Optimus says, softer. “If we - “

“You want to wake up holding hands and go around flirting and being a couple?”

“Not like that!”

“Then _what?”_

Optimus doesn’t know what to say, not with Sentinel throwing words at him and they’re both thinking with their interfacing drives.

“Is this some kind of game, Optimus? I told you, it’s dumb to look for a conjunx right now, we don’t even know where we’re going after this!”

They’re going in a circle, and Optimus needs to tell him no so they can never talk about it again. He doesn’t even think he wants Sentinel to _be_ his conjunx, not when they don’t really get along.

But if it’s true, about his mouth - and it is, because his glossae are still charged and warm - 

“...Okay,” he says, optics on the ceiling. “Yes.”

“Yes what.”

“...I want to interface. Here. Now. And it won’t come up again.” It feels - he doesn’t know how he feels.

And then Sentinel’s kissing him again, deep and with his glossae twining about his own, and his hand is on his audials again, and Optimus’ panels snap open, lubricants already dripping.

“About _time,”_ Sentinel hisses, and he pinches an audial, making Optimus yelp, then moan as the touch becomes firm.

//

Optimus is an idiot, but he’s cute. Sentinel works over his windshield, licking and scraping his dentae lightly over the glass. If he can keep the idiot overcharged, he’ll get to feel good, and Optimus won’t get cold-feet before he can really feel how damn _good_ Sentinel is.

And now that he’s gone ahead and kissed him - he’s in it, he’s going to show off. It’s _dumb_ that one of his skillsets is pleasuring a mech, but there’s not always work for a plowmech in a busy city, and he’s going to make it to become better than everyone else, no matter what it takes.

He can’t believe Optimus almost stopped him.

He shoves Optimus around, pushing him up against the wall of the washrack, bracing them between the walls of the stall so he can loop the chain around Optimus’ arms, restraining them behind his back. He gets his free hand down between Optimus’ legs before Optimus can focus enough to ask any questions, and pushes his fingers into his valve, grinning a little as Optimus squirms and moans even louder.

Of _course_ he likes being restrained and played with, Sentinel hasn’t met a mech yet who doesn’t like it.

Sentinel braces his hand on the small of Optimus’ back, feeling the tug on his wrist as Optimus tries to move his arms, then he thrusts his fingers deep into Optimus’ valve, curving them a little so he’ll hit more nodes on every drag.

“If you want this to stay casual, I’ll do it,” Sentinel says, happy to taunt him. “I won’t spike you. You’re just going to get my fingers until you overload, and I promise you it’ll be the best interfacing experience of your life. You’re going to regret trying to turn me down, Optimus!”

“S- S- Sentinel - !”

 _Ha,_ he still has no idea how to get his vocalizer under control. Sentinel grins, leaning forward to nip at an audial right as he pinches Optimus’ outer node, making him scream.

Sentinel pounds his fingers into Optimus, laughing a little as he moves between his adorable audials. They twitch as he nibbles on them, and if he tugs gently with his glossae they extend, which reveals more metal to nip, leaving secret little dents Optimus will find later so he’ll think of him.

Optimus overloads with another scream, transfluid rushing over Sentinel’s fingers and making a mess between them - so Sentinel uses the chain to move them, shoving Optimus around so he can see himself in the mirror, all dazed and pretty and wet.

Sentinel keeps him there as he lets his spike out, thrusting it between Optimus’ thighs - of course he enjoys the sight of his orange-tipped spike rubbing against Optimus’ legs. Elita-One’s called him an egotist, and it’s true, because he’s gorgeous and Optimus might have an awful personality, but he’s got one slagging pretty frame.

Sentinel kisses him, careful not to get that cap digging into his forehead, and he tastes Optimus’ moans for himself as he thrusts faster.

He’s going to overload soon, so he breaks the kiss - 

“Watch me,” Sentinel orders, enjoying how Optimus’ optics snap to the mirror, and he groans, overloading with a rush of heat and pleasure.

His transfluid decorates Optimus and the mirror, and Optimus shudders, then jerks, overloading a second time - it’s weaker, but Sentinel bets he never knew his frame could do more than one overload at a time.

“I’m the best,” Sentinel murmurs, all too happy as he drags Optimus back under the spray. Time to clean up and drag him off to the berth for another round - if he’ll let him.

He’d better.


End file.
